August Moone Sagas
Book 5
Absolution
Chapter 21
Press “any” Key

No Accounting for Taste
	It was going to be a long day.  So much to do, so little time.  The desire to be in several places at once was infuriating.  The quest to understand the Green Tornado Phenomenon, to go Midwest, to pack up and seek out some place in the land as solace…
	The feeling of being “stretched too thin” was overwhelming.  Where would it end?  WAS there an end?  The “implant” Exp 0110 was a curse.  Pure and simple.  Had it not been implanted, his life would have been severely changed.
	There, too, was that annoying desire to seek out those bastards who had no right to implant the implant in the first place.  Slowly he wondered just how many OTHERS had “implants?”  Surely the implants had been modified with new technology.
	It was mind boggling.
	So was Spying!
	Barrowing Breezy’s ride (for security purposes) Forrest returned to the town of Town and re-visited Nancy.  They fucked.  A lot.  He sorely missed her and treated her to a lovely time in bed, on the floor, in the shower, and across the dinning table.  She was spanked, peed on, spanked, cum on.  He wore his cock out on her…
	Little Julie, the girl he had rescued at the bus stop?  (the little girl from the vet’s office who was naughty with her best friend AND uncle?)  she had gotten caught getting it on with her best friend AND uncle and the Uncle got thrower in jail--after Julie’s dad beat the shit out of him.  A new law had come unto the land--a Man COULD be naked with a young girl of ANY age, the girl could be naked, too.  The man could lay his naked body ON the naked girl.  Now, so long as there was no Penetration--all well and good and the Man (or woman) could not be prosecuted.  But--as soon as there was penetration of any kind, a foreign object, tongue, finger, toe, and especially COCK--jail time.
	Forrest felt badly for the turn of events in the young girl’s life.  She spoke very little and kept to herself.  Wednesday was the only one she spoke to when she DID speak.  
	Pugsley and biker-Dozer were invading neighboring towns for their continued sexplay.  Eddie was being the “son” Nancy always wanted.  He boffed her, too.  Wednesday and Eddie boffed and they shared Nancy’s bed quite often.  Nancy was not so much into getting sexually involved with Wednesday, and Wednesday was not into older women.
	And then there was Becky.  The lovely Becky enjoyed getting dicked by Eddie--she enjoyed it more when Eddie was in wolf-form.  Nancy was quite taken by surprise to see her young daughter on her hands and knees with the wolf-creature dog-styling her.  (Nancy was unaware that the wolf-creature WAS Eddie, though.)
	Wednesday was firmly convinced that the Green Tornado Phenomenon WAS a doorway to other “planes of existence.”  She was a very strange girl.  Very.  And to be so wise at such a tender young age (10).  Weird.  
	Forrest didn’t know.  He boffed Wednesday and Becky, rested, then tooled out to the New Digs to visit Seth and Noah.  He found himself lost more than once before finally stumbling onto the elusive site.  Seth and Noah had taken extra steps to conceal the New Digs, security being an issue and all.
	“We’ve had an escape.” declared Seth.  “That Chinese gal, Kim, and Mandy (again).”
	Kim was the unlikely one to escape, beings as she had two children in the New Digs, and Mandy--Mandy-Mandy-Mandy.  The traumatic experience she had had at the Cabin in the Woods would have surely kept her from trying such another.  But, they were gone and had been gone for hours.
	Noah and Seth and “associates” had searched the woods but there was no trace of them.  Kidnapping for sexual purposes was still against the law.  Seth was, too, involved in kidnapping for financial gains…
	Forrest “visited” the various members of the underground dungeon.  Seth considered strongly digging deeper or relocating once more.  But as yet, the Cabin had yet to be “compromised”, but still--with two escapees, they might very well be able to lead rescuers to the New Digs site.  That wouldn’t be good.
	There was also the thought of “releasing” the captives, many had been “captive” for awhile, they were “worn” and well used.  Time for new ones.  Both Forrest and Seth, as well as Noah, had “favorites” among the dungeonites.  But it was decided, releasing the captives but keeping some of the favorites a while longer.
	Those to be released would be returned not from where they had been “acquired” but elsewhere--neighboring towns and or cities.  Forrest was not so callus as Breezy’s unnoble brother and release HIS captives out in the middle of the desert!
	Forrest took with him as many as TEN of the captives, the first ones to the Cabin in fact.  Minus Mandy.  Lightly he searched for the elusive troublesome girl, but found no tracks--it had rained and ruined any possible chance of scouting.
	The National Guard and other assorted law enforcing interlopers had dispersed the area, extra law enforcement of the towns and cities was booming along and doing their jobs adequately enough that the Guard and others could be recalled.
	So Forrest had no troubles returning to the desert city of Ridgecrest.

	Cole was well pleased with the “newbies”; he, too, was on the verge of releasing the captives he had in his “cellar” for replacement ones.  He still had a bountiful of chit’lins, including Penny, Margo, and Kenny.  
	Of the Cabin/New Digs group, Forrest had only a “shine” for ten year old Jane.  She was Chet’s bitch, the two were an “item”.  Twelve year old Rick and ten year old China girl Molene were an “item” as well.  Then there was eight year old Joey, seven year old Connie.  
	They, along with four teenage girls; Kristy, Stacie, Dawn, and Clorece were led down into the deep dank crowded dungeon.  Their new home.  Forrest didn’t want to step on any toes or assert himself unjustly, but the cellar needed upgrading.  Lighting, plumbing, air and heat and entertainment and so on.  
	Cole, though aware of the near inhumane conditions, was saving his money he got from the video sales.  Breezy got onto him, too, for the squalid conditions and often chastised him for his cruelty.
	Cole shined her on.  He knew it was cramped in the “dungeon” and more space would be wonderful, but for security reasons, finances, it wasn’t possible.
	“We could pool our resources…” commented Forrest.  He didn’t want to overstep his butting in but…
	Cole was cool with the proposal.  A little put off Forrest noted, but it was a man-thing.  He did welcome the proposal and the prospect of having a larger space for the dungeonites.  He worried about security measures, as did Forrest.
	Forrest would take it upon himself to find the right place.
	Meanwhile…

Gall & Balls
	Tamara and Shannon.  Their young teenage minds were totally zapped and frapped.  They sorta kinda almost sorta re-recognized their hiking companion Jake, Jake felt sorta kinda badly for their mistreatment--their demoralizing sexual mistreatment.  Tamara and Shannon were his friends, sure he had always-always wanted to shag them, spank, pee on them and fuck their silly brains out, but…
	Jake, who was a trusted lecherous perv, got to watch over the group while Cole set up video equipment and Forrest scouted for a more suitable larger place in which to do business.

	With Forrest on the lookout for a proper home w/dungeon, Cole busy making movies, Jake watching those to be made a movie of, Breezy taking care of her kids and the ones Forrest had recently acquired (from the restaurant a while back), Skyler had nothing to do…
	‘cept spying.  There was always that.
	He wanted to follow-up on the Campbell home, good stuff there.  He came equipped with one more piece of equipment--a hi-tech video camera.  It was “silent operation” and worked in extreme low light levels.  When the “invisibility” feature of his Contraption II was activated, the video camera would be also invisible--and functional.
	He was almost on his way to the Campbell home when something else caught his attention, Kale.  The boy was pulling out of the driveway of his parents’ home in one of their vehicles, the Volvo station wagon which belonged to his mother!
	The boy had been recently grounded for “smoking” pot when he had promised to lay off in order to maintain his motocross career.  He, too, was fifteen and didn’t have a driver’s license!  Didn’t seem to be stopping him, though.  Skyler didn’t have time to check the house (for bodies), with the Contraption II in full working order and not giving him any side effects, he latched onto the car’s rear bumper and clung for dear life.
	Thankfully the boy was not pissed off and didn’t drive like a maniac, or someone who had slain his family.  The bumps in the road, the dips, and other common road hazards almost sent young Skyler flying, but he held on and wondered why he was doing this…??
	It wasn’t Skyler’s town so he wasn’t too familiar with it.  He hung on and determined that he would use the other Contraption to zap the driver and get his butt inside the car. 
	Kale drove a few blocks but stayed off the main drag roads.  At length he came to a small street where the homes were--uh, not so nice as the one he left.  A little rundown, cars and PARTS of cars in the drive and yard, dog shit EVERYWHERE--yea, you know the kind of place.
	Skyler hoped he wouldn’t have any troubles al la side effects with the usage of the C-II, it’d be a bitch to suddenly become ill or “appear” out of thin air.  It wasn’t the kind of neighborhood to do that sort of thing.
	Kale got out of the car and somewhat surreptitiously scooted along the long side of the unkempt yard and house and disappeared into a side door.  Skyler didn’t know what to do, he felt stuck.  It was hot, damn hot.  Dogs bark, some kids were out and about--unclean kids, dopers, and derelicts of society.
	He didn’t have to wait long, though, Kale come quickly scurrying out and back to the car.  Skyler was already inside the maroon late model car, Kale tossed in a paper bag of “something” then quickly left the area--leaving the heavy scent of dog shit in the air behind.

	Kale made another stop, at a gas station.  Skyler wondered if the boy was making a run for it, running away, taking his parents’ car with him?  Had the parents found out, the mother at least, that she had been drugged?  And his sister, Amber, her too?
	Kale also got some sodas, the kind from the fountain inside the gas station store.  He had three medium sizes sodas.  What were the two extra ones for?  Skyler wished he had one…
	Kale then took off again, driving slow and not going to the main roads.  He drove around a small park.
	Oh.
	He stopped the car and popped the plastic lid covering the sodas.  From the paper bag he pulled out a small jar with a brass screw lid.  Inside were some small baggies.  Inside those were some small white pill-tablets.  He crushed two of them into each of the two spare sodas, replaced the lids and gave them a gentle stirring.
	Then it was around the park some more before stopping again where some children were at play.  Skyler occupied the middle seat.  Kale sipped his soda and listen to some hip-hop crap on the car’s radio.  He scratched at his balls which was actually a fondle.  Soon he was hauling out his cock and stroking.
	Skyler could spot several “possibles.”  Most of which, though, were in the company of a parental unit or teen babysitter/guardian.  Kale returned his cock to his pants and moved the car to a different park not too far away.
	More possibles but a slight lack of proper supervision.  Kale sipped more of his undoctored soda than got out of the car, after opening the passenger side door.
	Skyler watched him, no device of any kind, just gall.  Gall and Balls.

	What he said to them or whatever Skyler didn’t know, he remained in the car.  But Skyler seemed to have struck up a convo with two young girls.  Something Skyler understood was about a “lost puppy.”  the girl unwarily accompanied him back to the car.
	And unwarily, they accepted his offering of the doctored sodas…
	Skyler sweated in the back.  The girls and Kale chatted about dogs and cats, one of the girls had a rat she had named Oscar.  The other little girl only had goldfish-- “they poop a lot.” she said. 
	Slowly, both eight year olds began to get “sleepy.”  real sleepy.
	The girl who had pooping goldfish nodded off first.  She slumped over and that was just fine with Kale.  The other girl fought off the sudden sleep but her soda had been well mickied and she collapsed onto her friend.
	Kale looked around a bit, then fired the Volvo up and moved out of the area.

	A back road out of the side end of the town.  Once clear of the town Kale stepped on it and hauled ass.  The radio he cranked and fished out a joint from his pocket and lit it up.  The little girls were “passed out” totally.
	Five miles down the road and Kale turned “quickly” onto a dirt road and headed five miles down to some ridges.  The Volvo was slammed to a stop.  Kale sat still for a moment staring out the dirty dustied window.
	When the dust had all but settled, Kale popped the door and got out.  He whipped out his cock and peed on a nearby rock, then kicked the tire of the Volvo before slumping back into the car.
	His hand came to rest on the first little girl.  He rubbed her butt without looking at her.  Slowly he massaged his cock and then slowly he turned his attention to the little girl he was fondling.  
	She barely stirred, she wore short-short corduroys of turquoise blue.  Kale firstly merely opened her legs glancing down the leg opening.  The girl, “Carla” was sorta-kinda awake, but really-really out of it.  She drooled and moved listlessly about.
	The girl’s small red pullover shirt Kale pushed up.  A big yellow duckie was emblazoned on the front, “I’m Just Duckie” inscripted in an arch above it.  Kale tweaked the little girl’s nipples.  She was seriously flat chested, but then again--she was eight years old, too.
	Kale pulled the shirt off and used it as a sort of jiz rag, he wrapped it about his cock and masturbated while he continued fondling the girl’s chest.  He leaned back and scooted his butt forward and seriously began to stroke off.
	Skyler filmed it, seemed the thing to do.
	Thirty seconds or so later and Kale stopped stroking.  He hadn’t cum.  He sat in quiet repose, sighed and shook his head and then pounded the steering wheel.  What his problem was just wasn’t known--but he was clearly irked.  (pissed off)
	His attention returned to Carla.  No need to undo the short pants, just a gentle tugging would do and he done it.  Slowly.  Pink panties with lacey trim, love pat hearts all over.  A slight pee stain there was.  Nice tight snug fitting panties.  Kale stared and stared.  The shorts he deposited onto the floor along with her shirt. 
	Locking her ankles he lifted her legs and stared at her crotch.  The girl moved listlessly about some more, farted, and peed herself.  Kale’s cock seemed to grow stronger, “Oh yeah,” he commented, “piss for me.” 
	She did.  A little.  She moved more and more but was still very much out of it.  Kale put her legs back down, looked around outside the car, tossed his head back--contemplating.  He had already scrogged his mother AND sister by drugging them--how much more trouble could he ensue by kidnapping and drugging two little girls for purposes of having sex with them?
	Gradually the pink undies were moved down.  The scent of urine filled the air, it wasn’t too bad.  Kale examined the undies, checking for a skid mark.  There was none.  He wrapped the undy about his cock and masturbated some more.
	His fingers that had been on the child’s chest began “examining” the pissy pussy.  Up and down the smooth hairless mound, right in between--parting the mound and fingering lightly into the entrance.  The girl twisted a bit, moaned and struggled to awaken.  Her friend didn’t struggle.  Both the unseen Skyler and Kale checked to “just make sure” that she was still breathing.
	She was.
	Kale opened his door, tilted the steering wheel up and dragged little Carla down onto the seat.  His own pants he pushed down, no underwear did he wear.  Take another look around for security’s sake, he went down on the girl--licking her pussy and never minding the urination.
	Carla fidgeted--even more so when Kale stuffed his finger into her asshole.  The child groaned a really fussed as Kale’s tongue worked her little pussy into a tizzy.  Kale place the whole of his mouth over the girl’s cunny--fully engulfing it and driving both he and the girl crazy.
	Soon he could no longer hold back and he put himself on top of the girl, laying his cock on her young gash and humping.  He humped and humped, grinding hard against her young poon, raising his hips and pressing the head of his dick against her entrance.
	Dire determination there was on his face, he still seemed angry--and was taking it out on a young innocent.  He continued his efforts, slowly entering Carla, breeching her and stuffing her fully.

	Carla was too young, too small, for full cock penetration, but not for the lack of trying.  Kale entered as much of himself as possible and then just humped.  Most times his cock popped out.  He rested it against the girl’s cunny and nearly lay on her with his sweaty body.
	Skyler waited, he thought of utilizing the C-II, but held off.
	Kale pushed himself up and continued humping on Carla’s pussy until he squirted his love cream.  A great gob of it splashed onto the girl’s belly.  He dragged her down to hump on her chest and then bring her mouth to his soiled schlong and forced himself into her there.
	When the girl came more “around”, Kale slapped her.  This seemed to enthuse  the pissed off boy and he rolled the child over and assaulted her ass with his hand, spanking her tender flesh to his delight.
	He began semi-roughly but determinately finger fucking her asshole.
	His cum squirter got only partially re-stiffened.  He pressed it against the child’s virgin rim anyways.  Then returned to spanking her.
	The other girl was Shelly.  She was the same age as Carla.  Kale semi-slowly stripped her clothes off.  She hadn’t wet herself, SHE had a skid mark, though.  Kale smiled and went down on her immediately, tweaking her flat nipples and munching her sweet tender little hairless pussy.
	All that licking got him hard.  
	Shelly fluttered her eyes open, but was still no threat to security, she lolled her head about--then her eyes shot wide open as she was “breeched.”  Pissed Off Kale made vaginal penetration--ramming as much of his teen hood into the little girl as he could.
	He pumped and pumped, laid his organ onto her defiled gash and humped the skin until he began to squirt.  As the child squirmed and wriggled about so, Kale wrenched her over and assailed her tender young ass with his hands until her flesh was tomato red.

Cum Stains Are Us
	The heat of the day was waning.  But it was still hot.  Damn hot.  Although he knew he himself was no Saint, far from it--he knew he was not much better than the Pissed Off Kale, AND he had done some unkind things in his time, too.  But, he couldn’t leave little Carla and Shelly in the state that they had been “left” in.
	Kale, after raping AND sodomizing relentlessly Carla and Shelly, spanking them, peeing on them, making them drink more of the mickied up concoction, sucking his dick, and forced to lick each other in a 69er--though they didn’t know really what they were doing--he drove them back to near the state hi-way, but pushed them out onto the desert and split.
	Skyler, during the time the girls were being pushed out of Volvo opted to be with them.  It was a good mile or so to the highway, from there--he didn’t know.  Not for sure.  The desert town was quite a ways away.  The girls were nude and drugged up beyond belief.  Skyler knew it’d be his ass to be seen walking with two naked children--who showed heavy signs of sexual abuse.
	But he couldn’t leave them.
	Not knowing what else to do he picked up the girls, made himself ‘visible’ and carried them to some well placed rocks.  He covered them with his shirt and told them to “stay put”.  beings as they were so drugged up he didn’t know if they understood, but hoped they did and would…
	Then he stuck off making for the distant hi-way.
	Though it was really only about a mile--running across desert-scape in the middle of a blazing hot afternoon made the enduring run ten times as much.  No water or shade, no sense.  Upon reflection he should have used the Contraption I to zap Pissed Off Kale.  It would have meant undoing his Contraption II which gave him the Invisibility, then say “Hi” to the Pissed Off Kale and zap his ass; thusly making him drive them back to town and to Cole’s place or Breezy’s.
	Skyler knew there was no fucking way he was going to make it (on his own) walking to town.  It was too fucking far.  There was, though, a small roadside spot another mile or so UP the road (out of town).  He made for that.
	The sight of the trees surrounding the roadside mom & pop restaurant and gas station was a boon for Skyler.  Three gas pumps on a small covered island out front, gravel bed, rustic-rustic restaurant, garage, and three homes behind.  A couple of mobile trailers, a corral with no horses but a few chickens, some goats, and one mule.
	Five biker bikes were parked out front, one 1950s tow truck, a car with the hood up--engine boiling over.  Skyler looked them over all carefully, a barbecue was going on out behind the restaurant, bikers were milling around one of the big trees, drinking beer, peeing, and laughing.  Skyler avoided them and made for the side of the place where there was a telephone booth.
	He had no money with him so he made a “collect” call to Breezy.
	It was Breezy who answered and thankfully accepted.  She said she would be on her way.  Skyler would have preferred Forrest, but he couldn’t be too choosey.
	He waited.

Meanwhile…
	It was nice, very nice:  2 story misplaced Colonial home, complete with statuary, hedges, front yard pond, trees, Roman style pillars.  A backyard pool was included.  Large family room, separate dinning room, large kitchen, air conditioned.
	All the bedroom were upstairs, and there were four of them.  Three bathrooms, two upstairs, one downstairs.  The Master bedroom had its own master bath, with deck!
	There was a library--complete with “books.”
	A private den and sewing room.
	A storage room.
	But best of all, the cellar.  Or basement.
	There was great potential in the below surface room.  It housed a utility room that had a separate access to the side area of the house and garage.  There was a lovely game room that included a pool table, table top tennis, a bank of video game consoles, dart board, and mini kitchen.  A small living room w/plasma television and bitchin’ stereo.
	It was one of those ‘ready to move in’ specials.
	Forrest saw that a good deal of the sub-area could be cordoned off--to be converted into a lovely Dungeon setting.  He saw potential whereas there could be a preliminary room, an interrogation room, a utility room, a private room, and the Dungeon itself.
	All for a measly $250,000.  It was a steal, it was well worth scads more.  Just because the old man of the home had went on a killing spree, slaying his family as they slept, butchering and decapitating didn’t mean the home couldn’t be sold at a good price…
	The real estate was a one Marilyn Mosely.  Forrest liked her.  She was attractive, slim, determined to make a sale, charming, and Pissed Off Kale’s mother!
	Ah!  The plot thickens!
	And so did Forrest’s cock…
	While perusing the downstairs-downstairs, and seeing as how the potential client really seemed adamant--Marilyn became anxious and offered to cut some corners.  Her company had bought the house and there was a little leeway.
	‘Take off your clothes.’
	The woman in a near skin tight blue knee-length dress stood still a moment.  Forrest repeated the mind-tap message and slowly--to his delight, the mother of Pissed Off Kale stripped.
	She wore a simple slip, bikini panties of light pink, and a matching bra concealing a pair of wondrous twin 38Cs.  Wondrous!
	Once naked, Forrest looked her over--then stripped off his own clothes.  It was usual policy for any woman of any job--service, or otherwise, NOT to be alone with a member of the opposite sex.  It went ditto for the a Man in any position not to be alone with a woman.  Stuff happened and accusations could fly if one or the other got pissed off or had a case of dumbass or jealousy, etc.
	Forrest didn’t know why Marilyn came alone, she knew he was a man.  But maybe cause he was interested in such a pricey home.  Most of the homes in the area were for far less and not as extravagant as the Manchester home.  
	Once nude, the both of them, Forrest escorted the dumbfounded mind-tapped woman to the small sunken basement living room.  It was already furnished--as was most of the home.  The blood splattered bedding and carpeting had been removed…
	Over the arm of the overstuffed sofa Forrest positioned the woman.  Did she know her son was drugging her, having sex with her and his sister, Amber?
	No.  she didn’t.
	She had recently caught him masturbating using his sister’s panties, though.  She had found a small collection of nudy porno books, too.  She was on a determined search for his “pot” stash.  She didn’t find any, but found soiled cum stained panties and pornos.  
	The pornos she tossed in the garbage and then went on a rant to her son about his sexual depravity.  Then, just hours later, she caught him in his room jerking off with yet ANOTHER pair of his sister’s panties!
	His motocross career was over.  She was selling his bike and equipment and she was going to ship his sorry ass to military school.  The dad was involved and was not going to allow that to happen, he stood by his son--chastised and admonished him for his depravity, but stuck up for him.  It cause great riffs in the family house.  
	Marilyn was a little concerned that her son might sexually attack Amber.  She DID confront the young girl, not examining, just questioning if Kale had ever molested her.  Amber definitely said No.
	Marilyn wanted to physically “check” to see if her daughter was a virgin, but held off doing so.  She would take her daughter’s word for it.  For now.
	Forrest caressed the woman’s ass.  He was at rest.  His cock was sore, he had banged everyone he knew on his “check in” with Nancy.  But he wasn’t going to pass up sinking himself into Kale’s mother.
	Her backdoor was still pretty tight, Kale’s fine friend Patrick was tagging her there.  Patrick was more of an “asshole” boy than anything else.  (and a Boy asshole at that.)  
	Forrest pulled out of the backdoor and entered the lovely still amazingly tight “front” door.  And back and forth.  Sliding in to the hilt and giving a few quick pumps then pulling out and going to the other hole.
	One good squirt filled her poop chute, scarcely could he stop himself and pull out to stuff her pussy and squirt there.  He gave the woman some spanking and watched his cum trickle out of her pussy and spurt out of her asshole.
	He was well pleased.
	He let the woman rest a bit, allowing his cock to rest, too.  He had no reserve of getting into a house where a mass murder had taken place.  He might, though, keep that little tidbit of info from the others.  ‘course, though, they might already know beings as how the house was in their town.
	But it was the biggest house complete with everything!
	He had looked at a couple of other homes, much smaller.  Some didn’t have a second floor and most didn’t have a basement/cellar.  That was a near necessity.  Without a basement, well, fuck--might as well keep the Dungeonites where they were!
	The basement, too, had a full bath.  That was handy.  He showered and took a seat on the toilet.  Marilyn continued to be in ‘rest’ mode.  There were complications in buying a home.  The “waiting period”, hidden costs, the paperwork.
	Forrest would rather ditch the paperwork, the IRS and the MOB were notorious for finding people who were elusive that way.  Forrest led a private life--er, well--hmmm, not really so private, huh?  He led a life whereas he didn’t wish to alert the IRS or the MOB of whom he had worked for and ditched while on assignment.
	Not a healthy health plan.
	The money for the home was not an issue.  Forrest had money and could easily obtain money.  But that wasn’t the point.  To make the whole thing NON-suspicious, he had to have a job, a sizable bank account, etc.  It was, though, not above suspicion for some peoples to out and out buy large luxury homes.  Many folk bought expensive cars and boats and recreational vehicles cash on the barrel head.  Those people owned businesses, LARGE businesses.  Other people who bought material things out and out also played the ponies, or the slots, or the lottery, or craps, or simply acquired it through other legal means.
	But--there’s always a BUT, there was the paper trail to contend with.  The one selling the material item whatever it may be was legal obligated to inform the IRS, to create jillions of paperwork piles.  
	Forrest had a social security number, a military number too.  He assumed that as well as the MOB looking for him, so was the military.  He was an “experiment” gone awry and still had a military-government implant in his noggin.  It was property of the US-Gov.  and they wanted it back--by any means necessary!
	He would have to do something about the paperwork.  The house was perfect.  Perhaps too perfect.  It would suit them all, but not without potential hazards--foreseen and not so.  It was a little grandiose.  But Forrest had to admit--he had kinda sorta always wanted to be in a large house.

*

	With Skyler and Breezy’s return, Jake itched to get out and get on with some spying.  He loved it.  He was firstly intrigued with Skyler’s harrowing adventure.  Carla and Shelly had come along, too.  They were still under the effects of being drugged.  Breezy took the girls in for a bath.  Skyler went to the other bathroom to shower and recover.  He wasn’t interested in “spying.”  Jake took possession of the Contraptions and struck off.  He had a pre-planned destination--a follow-up on the Campbells.

	At first he thought it would be a bust--no one seemed to be home.  Under the guise of Invisibility he traipsed into the modest home and welcomed the cooling atmosphere.  He helped himself to some soda and snacks and enjoyed the narliness of prancing about someone’s home unseen.  It was cool!
	He held off getting naked, just in case.
	After roaming the downstairs, he head upstairs.
	All seemed just as quiet, the place was in need of a little pick up, a maid.  It was so assumed, then, that the mother of the house was still “out of town.”  Jake peeked into each room and found something of worth in one.  It was the shared room of Simon and Ruthie.
	They were naked.
	Ruthie was “bent over”, hands on knees.
	Brother Simon behind her, pumping steadily.
	The girl giggled some, the boy grunted.
	Jake wished he could join in…
	Simon grunted, gripped his sister’s naked hips and pumped to the maximum achievement.  Ruthie held her knees tight, screwing up her little face and enduring being reamed out.
	Simon finally managed to cream into his sister’s bung hole.  The girl held her pose until her brother was totally spent.  The boy pumped vigorously, pulled out and spilled a great deal of young pre-teen spunk onto her ass, ass crack, and legs.
	“OH SHIT!” he blurted.  “FUCK!” he exclaimed.  He pulled hard on his slinky, getting every ounce of full enjoyment from the act.  Ruthie stood up, rubbed her butt cheeks and diddled her asshole.  She said nothing but made a face just the same.
	“I feel like I gotta poop!” she remarked.  Simon didn’t care, he was still tugging on his prong.
	Ruthie walking as if a “corncob” was up her butt, moved out of the room and walked briskly to the hall bathroom.  Simon scooped up the girl’s yellow panties and worked his aching crank into them.

	After Ruthie had done what she needed to do in the bathroom, and Simon had all the joy he could handle in her panties, they scampered downstairs--still very much naked.
	Jake followed.
	The kids raided the refrigerator and happily floundered about willy-nilly, jumping on the furniture, sitting on various chairs and on the piano bench--all very much still naked.
	They watched some television--nude.  They danced silly dances--nude.  Simon farted and Ruthie masturbated for him.  Jake was in fits.  Very muchly he wanted to fuck Ruthie--and he wouldn’t mind a tryst with young Simon, either.  (like Kale’s friend, Patrick, Jake actually preferred boy “tools” and holes over girls.)
	At length they came to enjoy another fuck, Ruthie on top this time, straddling her brother, sliding her body down onto his pre-teen prong.  She moved herself up and down and Jake was right there; he could see the boy’s penis sliding in and out of Ruthie’s cunt.  She had a nice delicious asshole, too.  
	It was too much for Jake.  He kept out of sight and shut down the Contraption II, rendering him “visible.”  then, he waited a moment or two and powered up the Contraption I.  He got an instant headache and some blurred vision, those side effects were ever present and hadn’t been dealt with.
	They lasted only momentary.  There was a high pitched electronic whine, it coincided with the normal operation of the Contraption, Jake went thru the motions of “capturing” the brain waves of the two subjects on the sofa.  Once done, they were his.
	He let them continue with their illicit incestuous antics, Simon had cum several times prior and was all cummed out.  He tried, though, strained and pumped his all.  But his all was all gone and there was only the pumping pleasure.
	Ruthie grew tired and eased herself up.
	Jake zapped them into a stupor of being mindless.  Then he shucked himself out of his clothes and looked upon them both.  Who to fuck first?  He moved Ruthie to one side, squeezing her little ass, admiring her and desiring her.  Then, situating himself on the country style sofa, he lifted Simon’s legs.
	The boy had a nice body.  Very nice.  His testicles had a nice coverage of pubes, his balls small but adequate.  Jake seriously wanted to suck the boy, to taste him--cock and balls all.  But his own cock was in extreme duress and required relief.  
	Relief that only a nice tight bung hole could offer.
	Holding Simon’s legs up Jake poked tenaciously at the backdoor.
	It had been breeched and gave way to Jake’s tool.  The boy grunted some and made a face.  Jake didn’t have the ability to “sneak” into the Subject’s mind and dink with it or play around or uncover hidden truths, he was barely capable of understanding the complexities of the Contraption’s main function as it was.
	Slowly he entered the boy, placing his legs up along his chest he watched as his cock slid into the hole.  The house was semi dark with shades and curtains drawn--it was a desert thing--to keep a house cool, close it up.
	A slow methodic pumping action soon began, Simon was definitely getting dicked by his older brother, but he was still tight.  Jake pumped and pumped, pulled out and humped the boy’s balls and groin, then plunged back into the dirt chute and pumped some more.
	Finally the ultimate event came and Jake filled Simon’s rectum with goo.  He continued pumping, feeling the goo flowing over his own balls.  Simon grunted and made faces, but otherwise was zapped into a lull.  
	There was an ability function of the Contraption that allowed the Subject to be “aware” of what was happening, but Jake--again, was lucky mastering one function at a time.
	Jake finally pulled out and sat back, cum leaked out of his piss slit and gobs spilled out of Simon’s hole.  Simon’s cock was hard, it enticed Jake and he happily went down on the boy, sucking him.
	The taste of cock.   Mmmmmmm!  Jake loved it.  He loved the taste of pussy, too, but seemed more enthused with the taste of hot young cock.  He sucked Simon’s dong wholly, working him into a frenzy whereas despite the fact he was all cummed out, he came anyways.
	Simon shot a small load of slick clear liquid.  Jake loved it.  He sucked more totally draining the twelve year old.  He jammed his finger into the boy’s gooied rectum and drained the boy completely.
	Once more Jake sat back to rest a moment.  There was more he wanted to do to Simon.  Lots more.  He wanted to HAVE Simon, for his own--a sexual play toy!  Simon was a little too old, actually.  Jake thought of the other kids, those kids kidnapped in Cole’s dungeon.
	There was activity outside, someone was coming!

*

	Quickly and madly Jake scrambled to hide/conceal himself, release Simon and Ruthie, then render himself invisible.  Timing is everything.  It was good that he was “concealed” as the “invisibility” trick failed to initialize.  He didn’t know why, he didn’t have that much of a clear understanding of the Contraption.  
	Simon and Ruthie “awoke” and were a little dazed.  The front door jiggled, there was voices.  Simon freaked, grabbed his sister and fled (somewhere); Jake couldn’t/didn’t see as he was in hiding himself.
	The door opened and in popped Lucy!
	Cautiously she peeked into the house, leaning in.  “Hello,” she said, “anyone home?”
	No one answered.  She smiled and came on in, pulling by the hand a boy Jake did not know.
	“You sure it’s cool?” asked the boy coming in.
	“Yep.” decreed Lucy.
	The boy was nice, a little taller than Lucy, thick mop of blond hair on his head, thick lips, wiry, almost a kick back from the “grunge” era.  He looked like a possible doper, acid rock aficionado.  Lucy brought him into the house and re-shut the door--locking it.
	“We’re cool.” she said, “My mom’s out of town, my dad’s at the church, my brother Matt is at work, my other brother Simon is…” she wasn’t sure, 	“my sister Mary is at work,” and she wasn’t sure where Ruthie was but assumed she was either with Simon or at a girlfriend’s house.
	She pulled the reluctant boy to the kitchen and offered him a refreshment.  “What would you like,” she asked politely, “we’ve got soda, orange juice, lemonade, …”
	The boy’s response?  “Whatever.” accompanied with a shrug. His voice was low, as was his total demeanor.  He was either a doper or had been and was on the mend.
	They slammed a couple of sodas, Lucy definitely seemed to be up to something.  “Soooo, you want to come up to my room?”
	The boy seemed actually shy.  Or he had been busted for being in a girl’s room before.  No matter, Lucy took the boy (Duane) and off they went.  After barfing into a potted fichus plant, Jake initialized the Invisibility mode successfully.  He was dizzy and felt a little flush, he had to lean his shoulder against the wall of the stairs as he made his way.

	In Lucy’s room--shared with Mary, Lucy quickly showed Duane the room.  It was kinda messy and really needed picked up.  Clothes, including underwear, lay on the beds and floor, a pair of purple panties (Mary’s) hung on back of a desk chair.  Duane focused his eyes on it.
	Mary smiled and blushed a little then plucked the panties up and tossed them into the closet.  “We haven’t gotten around to cleaning up, our mom’s away and we kinda let things go.”
	“Whatever.” was Duane’s response.  His eyes, though, looked around sighting in on other underwear.
	Lucy still somewhat embarrassingly picked them up, tossing them into the proper closets.  “Sorry about that.” she apologized.
	“Whatever.” Duane shrugged.
	Lucy stepped up to the odd boy, hugged him, then looked into his eyes adoringly.  Duane looked into hers, then looked all around her--not a direct eye-to-eye contact kind of boy.  Lucy laid her head against him, squeezed him and music must have been playing in her head as she began to sway a little--like dancing.
	Duane held her but didn’t sway all that much.
	Lucy finally reached about to take Duane’s hands and place them on her backside.  The boy got the subtle message and held the teenage girl.  She was fourteen (almost), looked twelve.  Duane was fifteen--but in the same grade as she--go figure!
	They hugged and swayed and slowly--very slowly, Lucy eased Duane’s hands down to the small of her back.  Lucy wore skin tight black jeans--kinda inappropriate for summer wear--but oh well.  
	More hugging and swaying.
	Slowly, though, Duane DID begin some “exploration.”
	Lucy was, too.
	Duane slipped his fingers--all ten, into the back of the girl’s jeans.  His hands moved to the sides whereas despite being near skin tight, Duane found it easy to lower the jeans.  (he was apparently unaware that Lucy had previously undone them…)
	Lavender panties, with white love pat hearts, white lacey trim.  Duane’s hands roamed all over Lucy’s panty clad ass before slipping his Roman-fingers inside the undies and squeezing bare flesh.
	“Whatever.” quipped the boy.
	Lucy’s hands had been busy, too.  

	Jake felt ill.  A burning sensation seethed in his stomach and lower.  He was sweating and felt lightheaded.  This was not good.  He had been warned about the “side effects” of the Contraption usage.  He didn’t use it all that much, this was in fact his only time of using the Contraptions exclusively on his own.
	Thankfully, though, darting out of the room and down the hall to the parents’ bathroom and heaving madly--he felt MUCH better afterwards.  He washed his face, downed some pink stuff and sat on the toilet for a few lingering minutes.  He knew he was missing something good in the girls’ room, but it couldn’t be helped.
	When he did finally feel better, he returned.
	Not much had really occurred.  Lucy’s pants were at her at ankles, her panties down just to the crease of her ass.  Lucy herself was working Duane’s crank.
	Slowly the girl slid down, addressing Duane’s schlong.
	For a boy of his age (15), he had a surprisingly healthy cock.  It was six inches, it was thick, it was uncut, it was hard.  Lucy admired it, smiled, and flopped it.  Duane stood kinda amazed, shrugging one shoulder and then the other.
	Lucy worked the boy’s jeans and underwear down, then masturbated the boy’s cock, working it into a frenzy.  It gained an inch!  Lucy cupped his balls, then, closed her eyes--then leaned in and engulfed his prong for a nice long slow suck!
	“What--ever!” mouthed Duane.  It was his first BJ.
	Lucy sucked and sucked and sucked and sucked (and sucked some more.)  amazingly she managed half an inch more of Duane’s schlong!  Tugging the skin tight there was ANOTHER inch!  Cum spurted out of the piss slit and Lucy sucked it, licked it, and anointed her pretty face with it.
	Duane stood with wide eyes, totally blitzed.  It was better than smoking pot!
	With his cock sputtering cum, but not fully ejaculating in an orgasmic blissful way, Lucy stood and shucked her clothes.  One piece at a time, pausing with each removal for Duane’s approval.  
	When she was nude she stood again.
	“Whoa!” uttered Duane.  A changeup from his usual one-word vocabulary.  He licked his lips, his cock got harder, his mouth fell open--Lucy Campbell WAS pretty--even better naked!  Long silky brown hair, it curled just at the ends and gently flowed down her body touching her lovely-simply fucking lovely breasts.
	Perfectly shaped ski-sloped titties.  Soft supple skin.  A perfectly shaped triangle betwixt her legs.  An Angel’s face, soft eyes, soft complexion, adorable.  
	Cum dribbled from Duane’s dong, Jake’s dong, too.
	Lucy backed up to her bed and sat.  Duane was too dumbfounded and stood blinking his eyes and staring.  Lucy didn’t know what to do and sat a little uncomfortable.  She sure picked a winner.
	‘Go to her, stupid!’ Jake seethed in thought.
	“What?” said the former and possibly still, doper Duane.
	“What?” asked the demure naked incestuously horny Lucy.
	“What?” repeated Duane.
	Lucy stared at him.
	Jake got comfy and felt a bad headache coming on-- ‘what?’
	He had to think, but that wasn’t coming to clearly.
	Lucy patted the bed.  Duane finally got the picture and stepped out of his clothes and made way to the girl’s bed.  Once at the bed he sat down, but didn’t look directly at the lovely naked Lucy.  He glanced at her then rested his arms back and looked around the room some more.  (his tallywacker proudly stiff and gleaming in the air…)
	‘Lay down, dumbass!’
	“What?”
	“What?”
	‘Huh?’
	Hmmmmm
	Jake wrinkled his nose.  What was going on here?
	Duane, though, laid down.
	Lucy reached over and began “fondling” his cock again, working it and then crawling herself onto him, straddling him and gliding his 7-incher into her body.
	She tensed up, grunted, tightened, and slid ALL the way down.
	Duane made some noises that weren’t human.  His hands clamped onto the girl’s ass and they began to fuck.  Duane grunted, Lucy moaned.  Jake got up close, marveling at the “penetration”.  Duane’s hard throbbing 7-incher went sliding all the way to the boy’s ball sac.  He clenched Lucy’s cheeks and squeezed ‘em tight, prying them open.  It was all Jake could do to keep himself from climbing on board and stuffing Lucy’s backdoor.

	The two lovers pumped and pumped and pumped.  Lucy stretched up and Duane’s fifteen year old eyes feasted on her lovely ski-sloped titties.  He smiled and began to cum inside the girl.  Lucy jiggled herself about, bounced some, then squeezed her pussy to his delight and Jake so close at hand could see the girl’s own personal juices flowing…
	How many minutes there were for the two to experience their lovemaking “afterglow” Jake didn’t know, he had problems of his own.  His cock ached, was cumming, and he felt “ill” again.  Somehow he managed to hang on, determined to see it all through.
	Lucy rolled off of her naked sweaty lover and frigged her cunny.
	Duane massaged his prong, sat up, “Whatever.” he commented.
	“Do you need to shower?” Lucy asked.
	Duane shrugged.  “Whatever.”  
	Lucy shook her head sadly, “We’ve got to improve your vocabulary.”
	Duane-- “Whatever.”
	She took him by the hand, his cock still amazingly stiff, and led him across the hall to the hall bathroom.  Moments later the shower was turned on.  Jake took that opportunity to make for the parents’ master bathroom again.
	When he returned, he saw Ruthie sitting on the toilet, smiling, and waiting.  Lucy and Duane “Whatever” Horndog still in the shower.  The shower was one of those curtains encircling a bathtub--so the two naked lovers within had no idea that they had an audience.
	Ruthie seemed to have “completed” her business but was waiting.  She wiped herself, from between the legs and not behind, but didn’t flush.  She sat waiting--and waiting--and waiting.
	Finally, the shower was turned off and the shower curtain opened.
	“Whoa!” said Duane.
	“Ruthie!” chastised Lucy.
	Ruthie sat smiling, naked, and waved.

	Ruthie sat smiling, naked, masturbating Duane’s dong.  The boy stood in total amazement--if not bewilderment.  Lucy dried herself and then dried Duane.  With Ruthie’s young eyes on Duane’s STILL hard cock, Lucy seemingly relented, whispering to him, “She wants you.”
	“Wh-whatever!” partially dried, the boy stepped over.  He was in more delirium than ever, blinking his hazel eyes, totally dumbfounded.
	Ruthie looked up to him, smiling and grinning big.  She reached out and gripped his stiffy and began to work it like she knew how.  And she did.  Duane stood in awe and let her.
	After some moments of serious squeezing tubesteak, the grinning Ruthie leaned close and engulfed the head of the cock.  Lucy stood askew brushing her hair.  She was not entirely thrilled with the little sister-vamp, but was letting it go.  
	Ruthie slowly took in more and more the hot stiff schlong, squeezing Duane’s balls and very nearly engulfing the whole thang!  Duane was totally blitzed, AND speechless.
	Ruthie sucked and sucked and soon was fingering herself.  She popped the cock out of her mouth, grinning and dripping some of Duane’s goo from her chin.
	Duane remained speechless.
	‘Go to your knees!’
	Duane looked around.  “Wh-what?”
	“Not again!” shook her head sadly Lucy.
	“I’m hearing things, Luce.” Duane proclaimed.
	‘No, you are not.’ proclaimed the Voice.  
	That got him.  He gulped and looked around strangely.
	‘I’m you “CONSCIOUS” you dweeb.  Your inner voice.’
	“Oh,” said Duane, “righteous!”
	Lucy stared at him shaking her head sadly.  ‘I sure can pick ‘em!’

	Duane, though, at length, followed the Inner Voice commands and went to his knees.  He parted Ruthie’s legs and brought her forward a bit.  He stared at the little girl’s naked bald snatch.  He had a goofy little smile on his face, cum drizzled from his cock…
	Slowly he began licking Ruthie’s pussy.
	Lucy’s mouth fell open.  She was amazed.
	Duane seemed to like the licking and did a fair decent job of it.  Ruthie squirmed and giggled, peed a little more, and bit her lip hard as she was tantalized to the extreme.
	‘Do you want to FUCK her?’
	“Whatever.” mumbled the boy.
	‘Ruthie, do you hear me?’
	Nope.  Figures.  Jake tried and tried to communicate with the young girl, but she was on a different wave length.  
	‘Lucy.’
	Lucy blinked her eyes and looked around for the new “voice” she did not recognize.  She was curious, damned curious.  A little frightened, too.
	“Who’s there?”
	“Who you talking to?” Ruthie asked.
	Jake felt a bit of sticky liquid on his lip, it was blood.  His headache was seriously beginning to bother him.  He was communicating with the Contraption II, which was according to Skyler its creating not possible.  The C-II had only one function--invisibility.  But Jake WAS communicating, he had touched Ruthie’s mind earlier, downstairs.  But--no, that was with the C-I.  Jake felt ill.  He felt excess saliva building up in his mouth, his stomach was churning.

	Finally, though, despite his ills, Jake got Lucy to move to her bedroom and lay out on her bed.  He essentially “put her to sleep” while he went to continue with Duane and Ruthie.  He had Duane lay Ruthie out on the floor.  Jake wanted to sink his own bone into the girl, her bald poon was a lovely sight.  He thought of the girls at Breezy’s place as well as at Cole’s dungeon.  He smiled and felt a little better.
	He directed Duane to stuff Ruthie.
	And he did.
I Fuck Therefore I Am
	It was a good deal, no doubt there, but the paperwork and associative bullshit that would come along with it dampened the deal.  He got to fuck the real estate gal, Marilyn, though.  That was a plus.
	He moved on, lightly perusing this house (for sale) and that house (not for sale but good to peruse anyways) and stopped at a lone house in a moderate development.  It was still under construction--the house and area surrounding it.
	It wasn’t so much as the house or the area as was the backdrop.
	A small range of jutting ridges were just a few hundred yards away, then the beginning of the Gold Mountains and just beyond them, Mystery Mountains the locals called the Itchee Mountains.
	None of the mountains were above five thousand feet.  Their range (length) didn’t expand beyond the state.  Like young Eddie had been drawn strangely to the Green Tornado phenomenon, Forrest was drawn to the Itchee Mountains.
	He didn’t know why.  What he had learned was steeped in superstition and general fright.  That meant mostly the locals were frightened by what they did not understand.  Was it fact or something more?  The slaughter of the campers and rangers of recent was blamed on a wigged out Itchee Indian warrior.  Hunters and specialized law enforcement were hunting him down.
	Good luck!
	But there was something more.  More ominous.  He guessed that he had always been sort of “drawn” to desert mountains.  He didn’t know why, though--the mountains of the desert areas were not too kind, his thigh was still sore from his recent environment collision.  
	But--there was something there.  Destiny?  HIS destiny?
	He wasn’t too thrilled to go seek it out--better it come to him.
	Forrest moved on.

*

	Making his way back to Breezy’s, he was stopped by something else catching his eye.  It was a truck.  An old dull military green Dodge truck from the mid 40s.  Big in-bed winch in the bed, crew cab custom, rooftop a/c, tinted windows, custom wheels/tires, but in serious need of TLC.  And it was for sale.
	“Eight hundred!” spoke up a grizzled voice.
	Forrest looked over the hood of the old miner’s type truck to a grizzled old fart sitting in a sundeck chair.  The old man wasn’t getting up, he had a small ice chest by his side and there was bottles of beer floating in melting ice.
	Forrest wasn’t really in the mood for purchasing another vehicle.
	Or was he.
	“It’ll climb a mountain better than any goat!” continued the old man.
	Forrest didn’t know why he had stopped.  He had a vehicle.  The old military style was--old.  It had some charm and probably did well for what it was intended for.  
	Forrest wasn’t interested.
	“Seven-fifty!” barked the old man.  He remained in his chair.  The day was hot, he was just under the shade of a small palm and the extended eve of his old stucco house.  A late model 70s pickup was parked in the sloped drive, it had a flat tire.  There was a later model 60s Class C motorhome parked on the other side.
	Forrest for no other reason he could think of, gave the old truck a serious once over.
	“It runs.” said the old man, he got up and made his way down the sloping bare dirt yard.  He spat out a big wad of chew, farted, and needed a bath--a shave, and some mouthwash.
	“She’ll run out any wash and climb any hill you care to climb.” 
	“I’m-I’m not really--”
	“I’ll seven hundred, that’s it.” the old geezer said smacking his hand on the hot hood.  “It’ll take you into the mountains and out in the deep desert and back out again.  Uses a little oil, it squeaks and clanks.  The brakes work great and there’s no fifth gear but it’s got a 6th.  A little tricky getting--”
	The old man began to rattle.  Forrest wasn’t interested, not in the least.  He wrinkled his nose and wanted to be back with Breezy--and drink beer from her pussy!
	“She’s been on every trail out in the desert and in the mountains, including the Big Itch!”
	“Big Itch?” Forrest inquired.
	“You aint from around here, are you boy?”
	Forrest shook his head, ‘No.’
	“You bes’ stay the hell outta them mountains--”
	“Itchee Mountains?” he assumed.
	“Yeah, Itchee Mountains!” declared the old man.  He was grizzled and hovered in the neighborhood of 70 something.  Short, wiry, days and days of beard growth.  His white hair was yellowed at the edges.  He smelled in part of harsh kerosene!
	“I’ve mined all over these Godforsaken fucking mountains,” he continued blathering, “taint none worse off than those Itchee Mountains.”
	“Why’s that?”
	The old man’s pale blue eyes stared into Forrest.  It made him uncomfortable.  “Tarnation boy!  Where the hell have you been?”
	Forrest wasn’t going to answer.  He was going to get into his ride and go home.  
	“Got canyons in thar so damn deep, you gotta look twice to see the bottom!” the old man had suddenly grown a little quiet; he had turned to look towards the placement of the Itchee Mountains.
	“Sandwiched ‘tween Big Goldie (Gold Mountain) and Mystery (Myster Mountain).  She aint a big mountain, almost a hill actually, but all around her is canyons here and there.  An’ jess like those Injuns down Arizona way, those Itchees just all up and disappeared!”
	“How come?  What happened?  A war?”  It was supposed it was what actually what had happened to other famed mysterious tribes of the world--a civil war among them that the outside world was vague about.  The survivors (what there were) were simply absorbed into other cultures, or died in the process.
	Forrest stared off into the direction of the Itchee Mountains.  They couldn’t be actually seen, they were surrounded by the other mountains.  The old man was speaking again, but Forrest heard him not.  Forrest saw a swirling gray cloud…
 
**
Barrowed Luck

	It was hot.  Damn hot.  Outside.  Inside it was cool.  There was surprise in the twin air conditioners.  Despite of the outside appearance and even inside, the old military-style truck operated just fine.  Its engine needed some work, nothing major.  New tires would be a plus, new seating, too.  Mostly just TLC.  A fresh paint job and some bondo would be a boon, as well.
	But it was a sound vehicle and the twin a/c units were incredible.
	The a/c units were actually units converted from delivery trucks that roamed the inner cities--their cargo vegetables, sodas, ice or anything requiring absolute frigid conditions.  
	The old geezer had been a miner.  In his early years he had roamed the deep deserts and mountains in various vehicles, including mules.  Then, he found the old Power Wagon truck that had a mediocre air conditioning system that had been mickied in by someone else.
	The Old Geezer intended fully continuing to explore the deserts and mountains until he could no longer.  And doing so in some comfort was the only way to go.  Sooooo, over the course of the next few years--he re-created the Power Wagon:  it was stretched to accommodate more stuff for extended stays wherever he may go.  It was in essence a trumped up SUV on steroids.  A second row of seats and then a cargo area like a SUV, followed by a medium size open cargo bed with a in-bed winch.
	Military style wheels/tires.  Four wheel drive (natch), 6 gears, two granny low, a front 5,000 lbs. winch and a multitude of lights front and rear.  It was a marvelous vehicle, a little thirsty with the consumption of oil and gas, but with a 35 gallon fuel tank and spare gas can holders, the truck could stay out prospect mining for several weeks at a time.
	Forrest wasn’t so inclined to go mining.
	He had been drawn into some strange weird euphoria brought on by the strange gray cloud that swirled before his eyes.  He couldn’t explain it and perhaps there WAS no explanation.  It wasn’t Gold Mountain or Mystery Mountain, the mesas and the surrounding plateaus.  It was Itchee Mountain.
	Natch.

	Heat waves drifted all about.  It was quiet.  Dead quiet.  To the left was the 5,500 foot Gold Mountain. To the right, 4,800 foot Mystery Mountain.  Dry washes cut into the landscape forming an interesting but precarious road running smack into the foot of Itchee Mountain.
	A long narrow path led up into the crack of the strange mountain.  It was mostly barren save for boulders and a few cacti.  No trees except at the 3,000 foot level and that only lasted to the 4,500 level and it was barren again to the 5,000 foot top.
	Nothing stirred.  Not a damn thing.  It was quiet, still, and just a little eerie.  But he stood in front of the old truck, he had paid the old fart miner his original eight hundred dollars.  The twin a/c units on top were worth that.  He could ride in far better comfort in his own SUV, but the it wasn’t designed for such rough driving conditions.    
	Leaning against the winch he found some sort of solace.  It was strange, it seldom that he did--a quiet time to himself.  He felt the trickling of sweat dripping down his neck.  Nothing stirred.  No insects buzzed, it was all lifeless.
	What was that gray cloud all about?  A figment of his imagination?  Being tired?  Horny?  Fucked up beyond belief?  Maybe there hadn’t been a “cloud” at all.  Maybe it had been a puff of smoke…
	Suddenly there was a sound.
	A tingling.
	Like a wind chime.
	Just once.  But it was enough to get his attention.
	He thought it to be his imagination or something carried on the wind from somewhere else.  Then it came again.  Just once, a tingling tinkle.  It was followed by a “thump.”  a drum-like thump.
	It definitely had Forrest’s attention.
	There came another “thump”, a tinkling, and a slight pungent odor of something unfamiliar.  Something burning, though.  Something.  Forrest saw the gray cloud.  He was almost frozen--with fear.  It wasn’t something he welcomed or fell easily into.  A small gray cloud swirled before him, behind it (seemingly) was the tinkling of a wind chime and a once-in-awhile thump of a drum.
	The thump increased in tempo, so did the tinkling of the wind chime.
	The gray swirling cloud swirled and swirled.  It didn’t grow in any size but lingered a few feet off the ground and just some yards from where Forrest stood.  
	Then, a new sound, something like a flute.  It was a little off key.  And it was close.  Forrest nervously licked his lips and felt a litle at odds with himself.  To FLEE was his first instinct.  He had done enough of interloping and investigating.  He felt as if he was on barrowed luck.
	Almost nervously he approached the swirling cloud.
	As soon as he took a step--it dissipated.
	But there was the lingering odor and tinkling.
	He followed that.
	A new adventure awaited him…